


Caught

by goldensnitch18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Caught, F/M, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Prefects' Bathroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 06:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17719919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensnitch18/pseuds/goldensnitch18
Summary: Draco and Hermione are off to the Prefects' Bathroom after hours …





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I_was_BOTWP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_was_BOTWP/gifts).



> This little drabble is a gift for my lovely friend, I_was_BOTWP. I am so glad the fandom brought us together. Thank you for being you.

“We're going to get caught,” Hermione said biting her bottom lip as she stared down the fifth floor for any sign of movement. The darkness seemed to swallow everything beyond a few feet, making her anxiety skyrocket.

Draco’s arms encircled her, his lips kissing softly below her ear. “We're not,” he whispered back to her.

Hermione gently ghosted her fingers up his chest before gripping the fabric of his robes, pulling him closer. A soft noise escaped her lips as a tremor of anticipation shivered down her body from the place where he was tasting her skin. His hips pushed suggestively against hers, causing her to move backward until she felt stone behind her. One of Draco’s hands rested against it as the other slid beneath her robes to find the spot where her shirt tucked into her skirt. Her anticipation grew with each brush of his fingers as he pulled on the thin white fabric.

“Draco,” she whispered, half-annoyance, half-delight. Her head tilted back, baring more of her neck to his barely-there tasting of her skin. It wasn’t enough. She needed more of him. Slowly, his hand moved beneath the newly freed fabric, fingertips brushing against her hip. “You better get me to that damn bathtub.”

He chuckled softly against her neck, but pulled back, gripping her hand in his. “Come on.” They began again, walking as quietly as possible down the corridor, Hermione’s heart pounding loudly beneath her Gryffindor tie. It was so wrong, what they were doing, but she couldn’t possibly bring herself to tell him that they should go back.

Finally, they passed the statue of Boris the Bewildered, and Hermione let herself breath again. They were going to make it. She could almost hear Draco quietly counting the doors as they moved as swiftly as possible without making unnecessary noise.

1 …

2 …

3 …

4 ….

A door opened behind them, light filled the corridor, and they froze. “Hermione? Draco?” Draco’s hand clenched around hers as she broke into a clammy sweat. It was the Headmaster. Of all the people …

Hermione turned around slowly, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse to provide, but there wasn’t one. She tried to swallow down the lump in her throat as Neville Longbottom, Headmaster of Hogwarts came into view.

“Hey, Neville,” she said, sounding exactly like the seventeen year old girl she was pretending to be.

Neville was staring at her robes. She watched his eyes travel down her body, a confused expression morphing to an amused understanding as the moved up the body beside hers. “Hello,” Neville said, his grin positively smug.

“Longbottom,” Draco said in acknowledgement.

Neville watched them for a very long moment, his grin growing wider as his eyes lit up. “Shall I take points then?” he asked. “Head Girl out of bed.” He shook his head back and forth in feigned disappointment as he looked at the badge pinned on Hermione’s robes. Her hand flew up to block it from his mirth-filled eyes.

“Longbottom,” Draco repeated, this time a warning.

“I’m just trying to provide authenticity to your little game, Mr. Malfoy.” Neville himself was decked in trousers and a button down shirt. He was standing in the doorway to a brightly lit classroom.

“Neville!” Hermione felt a flush rise in her cheeks, mortified at the interaction. She had told Draco that this was a horrible idea, that they should change in the bathroom, but he had wanted the authentic experience from beginning to end. They never had the opportunity to sneak off to the Prefect’s Bathroom for a shag when they were students, so why not don their robes and play a little game? It couldn’t hurt anyone, and they wouldn’t get caught. Bastard.

“Shall we do detention instead? I could play the role of the of the bad professor.” Neville laughed then, a deep, joyful laugh that made Draco glare at him.

“Like you and Hannah haven’t snuck off to the greenhouses for a little reliving of the old days,” Draco said, motioning out the window. “You’ve probably been all over this place together.”

“Yes,” Neville agreed, quite freely, “but we’ve never been caught.”

“I told you this was a horrible idea!” Hermione said, finally unable to hold back her I-told-you-so any longer.

“If Longbottom would have just minded his own business, we would have been fine,” Draco told her. “How about you go back in there,” Draco pointed at the door behind Neville, “and we all pretend you have no idea Hermione and I are going in there?” He turned to point at the door to the Prefects’ Bathroom.

“Draco! I’m not going in there now,” Hermione said, as if this was obvious.

“What?” Draco asked, annoyed.

“I’m not going in there when I know Neville is out here!” she said, feeling her cheeks flame even warmer than they already were.

“Don’t mind me,” Neville said, laughing. “None of this ever happened.” He turned to go back into the room.

Draco moved closer to Hermione. “See? Never happened.”

“I’m not going in there, Draco,” she said.

Draco leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closing. “I’m going to kill him,”

“Not my fault you’re horrible at sneaking around the castle at night,” Neville said, getting in one last jovial jibe before he clicked the door shut on his two colleagues.

“Kill. Him.” Draco repeated.

“I can’t go in there. Not when he knows.” Hermione let out an involuntary shiver at the idea of Neville knowing that she was having sex and where. Draco groaned softly, pouting as she kissed his lips gently. “Another night. Let’s go back to bed.”

Suddenly she felt his mouth smile against hers. He deepened the kiss, pulling her more tightly against him. His lips moved to her ear again, and he whispered, “You know what I always wanted to do when we were students?”

“What?” she asked, not even wanting to guess what he was thinking, but knowing that she would go along with whatever crazy plan her husband cooked up next because she loved him dearly and was more than ready to have him out of his old Slytherin robes.

“Have my way with you out on the Quidditch Pitch.”


End file.
